


love song

by andnowforyaya



Series: yaya's commissions [2]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 15:10:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12633663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andnowforyaya/pseuds/andnowforyaya
Summary: He could sense he was on the verge of something, the feeling you get when there’s a word on the tip of your tongue.





	love song

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Verocity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verocity/gifts).



> @verocity asked for:
> 
> "Changkyun/Wonho Setting: Canon-compliance preferred, but open to any modern non-fantasy setting Main prompt: The feeling of helplessness after falling too deeply in love. Or a similar interpretation of the song "Linger" by The Cranberries."
> 
> hope this is along the lines of what you were thinking! if not, please let me know. thanks for the commission :)

There was something off about the chord progression that Hoseok was working on in the bridge of the song. He had tried moving in thirds, in half-steps, in fourths. He’d tried shifting the key of the song entirely, and he’d tried modulating from a major chord progression to a minor. It still sounded off. He held the cup of his headphones nestled tightly against his right ear with one hand and pressed the spacebar on his laptop with his other hand, as though forcing the sound closer to his eardrum might help him identify where he’d gone wrong.

Hoseok frowned. The bridge fell flat again, even with the sample vocals laid over it that Kihyun had helped him with earlier. He glanced at the clock at the bottom right-hand side of his laptop screen and grimaced. It was well past midnight, which wasn’t particularly late in his line of work, but he remembered he’d promised his members he’d be back at the dorm in time for dinner. He checked his phone and guilt struck through him when he saw how many notifications he’d missed. He turned the face of his phone over onto the table. He’d check again in a little while -- he wasn’t on a roll by any means, but he worried that stopping his work now might make it too difficult to pick up again at a later time.

He could sense he was on the verge of something, the feeling you get when there’s a word on the tip of your tongue.

Problem was -- he’d been feeling like this for the better part of a month, now. Maybe more than a month. Like he’s been teetering on the edge of a pool waiting for some kind soul to just tip him over and into the deep end. The song felt like that to him: uncertain, teetering, on-edge. Sometimes that was okay, but this time it wasn’t good enough for Hoseok. It was a mess, an incomplete thought spilling out over two dozen music bars.

The song was important. It was going to be on their next album, maybe even the title track. And Hoseok was composing it.

He was pretty sure his butt had molded to the chair he was sitting in. Good thing it was one of those ergonomic designs, so it was comfortable, but still he was fairly certain he’d become one with it. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to get up and move around a bit. Do some jumping jacks. Some push ups. Get his blood flowing in his limbs and through his brain. He blinked, his eyes strained and dry after staring and squinting at his laptop screen for so long, and only when he reached up his hands and arms to stretch did he realize how cramped he was. Yes, definitely get up and move.

He pushed away from the desk and rolled in the chair for a bit, lulling about aimlessly and looking around the small room. With the success of their last album, Starship had granted him his own space away from the dorm and in the corporate offices to call his studio. He’d had space before, of course, but only if he asked every time he needed the privacy and with the understanding that the space was shared, as he was expected to move if anyone else needed it.

Now he had a studio. A small, tiny closet of a studio, but it was his own and there was a door with a lock and he had the key to it.

He’d decorated minimally. All he really needed was a desk, a chair, a good set of speakers, and his laptop. He’d brought in a desk lamp because he didn’t like to work under the too-bright fluorescent lights. Over the weeks and months though, things had accumulated without his intent or knowledge -- somehow he’d acquired a bookcase that stood by his desk that was filled now with his favorite records and albums, along with some choice figurines from movies and animes he liked and also a couple of plushies and pictures of his group members. Beside the bookcase, Kihyun had put up a poster of an R&B singer he liked from America, his reasoning being that he was in Hoseok’s studio often enough and that this particular singer really inspired him.

Hoseok stood and stretched, his eyes lingering over the poster and to the space next to it on the floor, where there was a notebook, a few scattered pens, a few crumpled up pieces of paper. Changkyun had been here in the morning and left those things, his presence behind Hoseok as he worked somehow calming and reassuring. Changkyun was good at that: centering Hoseok. Maybe it was his deep, rich voice that seemed to resonate in the walls when he spoke, or maybe it was how it seemed he didn’t have a single judging bone in his body. Whatever it was, Hoseok felt comfortable with him, in a way that -- dare he say it -- he’d never felt with anyone else. He could perfectly picture Changkyun on the floor with his knees drawn up to his chest, his notebook sitting high up on his thighs as he scratched out lyrics and blew his hair out of his face.

Hoseok exhaled and twisted his upper body, swinging his arms from side to side to loosen up his stiff waist, allowing his thoughts to drift without hindrance. It was the best way he knew to regain sparks of creativity.

He thought on Changkyun for a bit, feeling a pressure release from his chest as he pictured the way Changkyun would chew on the end of his pen as he thought about his lyrics, how he’d tap his foot to the beat of his raps. When Changkyun was in a good mood, his teasing was light but sharp and witty, always drawing a laugh even from the person who was his target. He laughed with his head thrown back. He acted cute to get his way. Though he’d spurned the role of maknae early on and even expressed how he felt he could never do the role justice after growing up overseas, Changkyun had found his own way to gain the love of his hyungs. He was no longer the shy, insecure boy they’d been introduced to during No Mercy. Changkyun had grown so much over the past few years, and Hoseok was proud of him.

Actually, proud couldn’t begin to describe how Hoseok felt about Changkyun. There was something much deeper than affection sitting in the space Hoseok had created for Changkyun in his heart. Something that had brought Hoseok to the studio to try to coax out and piece together into song.

He was swinging his arms back and forth when someone knocked at the door. “Yes?” Hoseok called out. “It’s open. Come in.”

The door opened silently. Hoseok had to squint a little against the harsh bright lighting from the hallway that flooded the doorway.

“Hyung?” came a familiar voice. “Figures you’re still here.”

Hoseok chuckled, sheepish, and stopped twisting back and forth. Changkyun stepped into the studio but didn’t close the door behind him. One hand lingered on the knob.

“I’m just working on the song,” Hoseok explained.

“The song can wait,” Changkyun said. He was wearing a soft hoodie with the hood pulled up, gym shorts, and sneakers with socks pulled up to mid-calf. “Hyunwoo-hyung sent us out to look for you. It’s late, and I know you haven’t eaten yet. So let’s go home.”

“You ate without me, right?” Hoseok asked, walking back to his chair and sitting down. He wasn’t sure if he was sitting down because he was trying to close out his work or sitting down because he wanted to get started back on it again. He still felt guilty about ignoring all those notifications on his phone, but he'd needed the time away from the dorm to try to shake out that pool-edge feeling of his. Plus, sometimes when he worked, it was hard to notice anything else.

“Yeah, Kihyunnie-hyung made sure of it. We can pick up some ramyun on the way home, though.” Changkyun dug the toe of one shoe into the floor and whined. “C’mon. It’s cold, hyung. I don’t like when you work late like this. You should take care of yourself better. Also, we made a bet on who would find you first.”

Hoseok sputtered, eyes wide as a flush rose to his cheeks. He could feel his skin warm. “I take care of myself just fine, Mr. Gym Shorts in the Middle of Winter.”

Changkyun said with a sly grin, “I thought if I came to you in a more pitiful state, you’d listen.”

“Well,” Hoseok said, not quite finishing his thought. He was still blushing! Damn his cheeks. He stared at Changkyun’s knees and found it cute how Changkyun was bouncing them slightly to ward off the cold. A swell of affection rose up inside of him for the younger boy. “Oh, all right,” Hoseok said. “I wasn’t getting anything more done, anyway.”

Changkyun cheered. Hoseok tried not to let Changkyun’s blinding smile trip him up as he gathered his things to go.

“What was the bet?”

“Hm?”

“The bet,” Hoseok prodded.

Changkyun laughed, shoulder to shoulder with Hoseok now at the door. “First dibs on the shower for the week.”

.

“So how’s the song coming along?” Changkyun asked, when they had walked a few paces from the company building into the chilly night. The streets were faintly orange from the glow of the street lights, and there was a slight mist in the air that made everything damp and cold. Changkyun folded his arms across his chest and shuffled along in his hoodie and shorts and Hoseok frowned. Their dorm was only a few blocks away, but every step brought them farther away from the controlled warmth of the building they had left, their breaths coming out in visible clouds of white in front of them.

“It’s still missing something,” Hoseok said, rubbing the back of his neck. He was wearing a bookbag with his laptop and an extra scarf in it. “It’s just not capturing the right feeling, you know?”

“What’s the feeling you’re trying to capture?”

Changkyun looked at him and tried to keep the chatter out of his teeth, but failed. Hoseok sighed and swung his bookbag around to the front, unzipping the main compartment and pulling out his scarf. “I should have given this to you right away,” he said as he handed the scarf to Changkyun.

“It’s only November,” Changkyun protested.

“And your lips are turning blue.”

“They’re not,” Changkyun said with a pout, and Hoseok’s heart lurched in his chest.

“They’re not,” Hoseok admitted. “But you’re cold, so put it around your neck. I’m not using it, anyway.”

Changkyun looked at the scarf in his hands. It was plaid, and thick like a blanket. Hoseok often used it in the dead of winter as a layer over his duvet to sleep. He brought it with him to the studio because sometimes the air conditioning would kick in without warning and turn the room as cold as a refrigerator. “Thanks, hyung,” Changkyun said, his voice soft and velvety. Hoseok shivered but not due to the cold, resolutely staring straight ahead as Changkyun wrapped the scarf around his neck and sighed, a small smile playing on his lips. “It’s warm,” he said. “Smells like your cologne. I feel like your date, or something.”

Hoseok was blushing again. He cleared his throat and tried to hurry their steps along. They turned the corner onto their street, the convenience store right by their building throwing harsh white light onto the sidewalk.

“Anyway,” Changkyun said, picking up their conversation where it left off. “What’s the feeling you’re trying to capture?”

“I don’t know,” Hoseok admitted. Changkyun looked a little ridiculous with the hood of his sweater pulled up and a giant scarf covering the lower half of his face, but Hoseok’s heart was still doing jumping jacks in his chest. “It’s a love song.”

“You’ve written love songs before,” Changkyun said, peering at him with a curious tilt to his head.

“I have, but...not like this? I guess the song is about being in love but being uncertain about it. Or being in love and feeling hopeless. Or being in love too much.” Hoseok was rambling. Changkyun was walking with his arm nearly pressed against Hoseok’s now, and every new steps, the backs of their hands brushed against each other, sending electric shocks of pure joy up Hoseok’s spine each time.

“No such thing as being in love too much,” Changkyun murmured. “I’m sure you’ll get it, though. You’re so great at it. Composing, I mean. Or maybe falling in love?”

“W-what?” Hoseok asked, panic rising in his voice. They had reached the entrance to the convenience store. The doors slid open automatically, a woman’s voice greeting them. The two boys wound their way to the familiar aisle full of different types of instant ramyun and picked up a few packets.

“You’re trying to write a love song,” Changkyun said as they walked up to the register to pay. “So have you ever fallen in love?”

The guy behind the counter was a pimply-faced teenager, probably a first-year college student, who glanced at them both at Changkyun’s question. Hoseok’s blush became deeper. He chewed on his bottom lip as the worker bagged up their ramyun and handed it back to them. Changkyun took the bag.

Outside, the mist was growing stronger and thicker. By tomorrow morning it would turn into rain, or snow. For now, it made Changkyun’s skin look dewy and like he was made of thousands of crystals. Hoseok’s breath caught in his throat. He was standing at the edge of the pool and he could see now what was in the deep end. He jumped. It was like someone had lit a fire under Changkyun’s skin, and Hoseok was letting himself feel its warmth for the first time. Hoseok was in love. He was in stupid love, and it was with the boy standing in front of him who had come to look for him in gym shorts in freezing not-quite-rain.

“Yes,” he said, in answer to Changkyun’s question. “I have.”

“Then let it come out in the song,” Changkyun said. He blinked at the older boy, his lashes long against the tops of his cheeks. “And let everyone hear it.”

.

**Author's Note:**

> comments/kudos appreciated! i'm also on [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/yayawrites)!


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